


Ice Is A Few More Carats Than Gold

by Shock_Value



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anarchy, Angst, Arguing, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Multi, Opression, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Polyamory, Quests, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Royalty, i halfway infer they fuck in a wagon but thats all on that, i honestly don't know how to tag this, its not doing very good though, they have magic powers n all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shock_Value/pseuds/Shock_Value
Summary: They are given gifts from the spirits and worlds yet some don't appreciate it.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 197





	Ice Is A Few More Carats Than Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda lost where I was going with this at some point and I probably should have planned a plot instead of winging it but I wanted to write it anyway
> 
> hope you enjoy :)

**Dream -**

Dream decided, one night while looking at his half finished blade, that the gift of royal blood was a broken promise.

He had no idea why. He was young and words never came easy but he knew  _ feelings _ and he knew what a broken promise  _ felt _ like. It felt just like the opening to a bad joke built on his loneliness or like the jester stepping on his toes.

He's seen the children in the streets, hardly old enough to walk, falling and crying but getting up again to brush off their orange and brown dyed clothes to join back with the others. Even if he was well past learning how to walk, he could never get up. He could never go back to having fun if he had nothing to go back to.

The jester said a sinister joke once.

_ "Those who walk in foil shoes are foiling themselves for the long run." _

Dream hadn't understood. He was younger than he was now, green ribbons in his hair and purple threads had just recently met his clothes, it wasn't his fault for not understanding the implications of a bad joke. 

He did understand the look that his Great Uncle, the king, gave to the jester and that the emotions in the jester's eyes as he met Dream's were not nice. He understood that the harsh whispers from his first cousins, once removed, to the royal guards were orders and he understood that when at dinner that night, when there was a new jester, those orders were to "let go" of the old one.

That's probably why it stuck with him. Something about it made it feel like one of the servants was folding his clothes wrong. Like there was a wrinkle even after going by the laundry room. Like the laughs from Dream's own father after the bad joke were being sung from the corridor in the funeral house.

Dream realises he has heard his father laugh at a lot of things.

The jesters, the servants, the playing children in the streets after they fall and cry, Dream's own failure. It must take a toll on a man who laughs instead of cries. A man who must be so joyful even if everything is wrong.

Dream thought very highly of his father. He was a swordsman with a deadly strike and didn't rely on the magic their blood held. He never had it and he excelled at everything that didn't require it. He founded a church based on the development of non-magick culture and technologies.

Even if the teachings had put their family in the street grime, it didn’t matter. The world was evolving and Dream was eventually going to be at the top. His father had told him since he could comprehend.

So Dream picked up a temporary blade and would spend the nights and mornings seeking lessons. He learned and fought and won. He was going to be more than anyone bargained for and he was going to follow his father’s example.

He was going to bring the non-magick to the forefront and help his family's image skyrocket.

The green and purple threads that adorned his body were going to be seen and the yellow ones of the king's direct family will be forgotten. His great uncle will go down with the rest of them. His first cousins, once removed will learn how it feels to worship the higher ups.

The moon was now fully reflecting in Dream's sword blade. He almost forgot he was awake.

Dream remembers the journey he took to get his blade. He remembers the way his soft hands had hardened and how his movements had become as fierce as his father's. He remembers the way his sword became his body and he became the sword as an old trader's jingle played on his mind.

_ Ice is a few more carrots than gold. _

He knew it.

He remembers the night his father had left him in the dark to cry to the moon--  _ she loves you _ \-- because his father didn't want to hear how much pain his son was in--  _ because you are love _ \-- even if he was the one to enforce the lessons.

That was when Dream realized how beautiful the moon was. It was when he stopped crying because he could feel her reflect in his blade and ease his aching shoulders. He could feel how she whispered to the ground below him.

_ This boy is godless. _

And Dream heard how the earth whispered back.

_ Yet he loves us. _

And Dream felt as the ground gripped his boots and the metal of his sword lighted. He felt as the dirt under his fingertips shifted and his grime covered hands stopped slipping from the hilt.

The sun was far, off the edge of the earth in the water, cooling down after a long day of running from the wind, but Dream heard him too.

_ He is royal. _

Dram felt as the ghosts and corpses of past kings and queens fell onto him and graced him with life. Life may not be death but death is life.

The breeze in the night had stopped, the trees shivered, and the blade in Dream's hands had raised. The sun spoke.

_ But he is more than they'll ever be and his heart is from the past. _

Dream felt the earth and moon agree.

_ And he'll make a future. _

Dream lunges with his blade and gods smile.

_ He is godless. _

_ But he loves. _

Dream had felt like a star was born inside of him-- perhaps on was-- and magick was born from his weapon.

_ Magick. _

Dream remembers choking.

_ Realm magick. _

And Dream remembers thanking  _ them _ because he was godless.

And Dream remembers the way his father had looked at him.  _ Was it with dismay?  _ He never knew with his father.

And he remembers the words.

_ "Magick? Goes to show how much the gods  _ hate _ you." _

Or was it his father who hated him?

Dream was godless. That was how it was going to be.

Godless with a weapon. Godless in his gait. Godless in his love.

But he was a  _ god _ with his weapon and  _ royal _ in his gait. Dream knew how to love which was more than his father's gods knew.

He picked up a sword and danced. He picked up a sword and played the game. Now he gets his own weapon. Forged with his own hands with help from only the best. A sword sharper than his father's and hardened with his own blood and sweat. A sword with his own words engraved in the blade and a hilt made from his passed horse.

All in all, a blade with his soul tied to the stem and a message he will hold close to his heart.

_ "You are the son of a religious leader and you are godless."  _ His father had said the day before.  _ "Our image was already suffering and then you made a fool of me. Your mother would be ashamed." _

Dream had never spoken to his mother. He had seen her once, years ago, she seemed very weak and young.

_ "You are going to leave." _ Dream knew what this meant. He was told. He had been taught.  _ "Revenge."  _ His father had said it with glee. He didn't realize that that was his father in glee.  _ "Ice is a few more carats than gold."  _ His father had sung.

Dream remembered nodding but not walking away.

The moon had left Dream's blade and the earth asked him to lay and rest.

**Sapnap -**

Sapnap knew that the day he figured out his magic, he was going to be great.

_ Fire. _

It was a horribly big celebration for such a small family, but he guesses that's what came with fire. It could grow so big and burn so bright and only begin to die down when someone neglects it. It was loud and warm and Sapnap loved every moment of it.

His whole family had begun the event by recounting various occasions when they believed Sapnap was going to find his magick.

His father and mother held each other with wide smiles and his father began with a loud voice, "You had been five." He took a drink of his beer. "Now I know that's young but-- but you see-- you had been lighting candles around the house and you fell into the fireplace." Sapnap laughed.

Sapnap's mother shook her head, "Really? You're starting off with that one?" She smiles and looks up to the ceiling as if to remember, "Let's see-- um, you had been out chopping your first tree. I think you were eight." Sapnap nods. "And you were having a really hard time but you had stopped and looked at the tree and brought your axe up really high-- and  _ I _ thought you were going to do what your dad did." She laughs. "He set a whole tree on fire! Just with one swing."

"Hey-- the sun spoke to me. Told me to hit the tree really hard." Sapnap's dad grumbled.

"Y'know I never understood all that stuff." His mother says, lighthearted.

Sapnap's mother hadn't been gifted fire. She was born from people who had and she had loved people who had and Sapnap didn't think there were any non-magick in his town beside her. Sapnap felt as if she deserved it. She was kind and optimistic, outgoing and loving. She was everything everyone ever thought a fire magick user should be.

The only hint of fire in her was the way her eyes burned with life even if wet or put out. Sapnap wanted that.

But instead he had a gift from the fire and wind.

He had been sending sticks down the river. Chopping each one off a dead log every few minutes.

The wind had picked up and dust started flying, but he didn't move. It was just the wind. He wasn't scared of the wind. His sister had once told him that she liked how wind moved around her. It was a friendly spirit if it wasn't angry.

Sapnap held up his axe and let the wind push it around. The new pressures were soothing.

He heard the wind first.

_ You're the child. _

Sapnap had jumped and stumbled not expecting it. He fell but it didn't hurt like he expected it to.

_ Your mother has whispered to me. _

Sapnap had calmed down and held his hand up to the wind. It pushed at his fingers.

_ The sun had loved her. _

Sapnap swallowed as air was pushed into his nose and hair waved wildly in the wind.

_ But she whispered to me to let you have what she was going to be given. _

The wind was a spirit of many words, Sapnap found.

_ She was wise and hopeful. _

Sapnap had settled himself back to where he was before, by the log and river.

_ I think she made a good decision. _

And fire graced his mind. His ears buzzed and his hands were warm. The wind stopped when the sun bore down on him.

_ You are bright. _

Sapnap looked towards the sun. He felt like he had to.

_ You can be perfect. _

And Sapnap's heart beat louder than he's ever heard it before.

But he felt as if his eyes burnt low and his gaze was just a charr.

"We're so proud of you, Sap." Sapnap's mother said, placing her hand on his shoulder with a beautiful smile.

She made him believe that he could do something with this.

He trained and worked for a few years with the best magick users in his town. The way his magic flowed around him awed his tutors.

_ "It's like wind." _

Maybe it was.

He had become one of the best. Him and his axe were going to take over the logging business and help out anyone who needed it.

He came home smiling one day, expecting to see his parents doing the same. They weren't. They had a scroll laid on the large family table. His mother had left the room when she saw him and his father 

"They're drafting." Sapnap's father said to him. "They want you to go train."

With a heavy heart Sapnap complied.

Sapnap hated training. They were forced to use swords that were too light for his liking and they all had cold looks on their faces. He missed the warmth of home and his parents hugs.

He got to see a lot. That was one of the only upsides.

He got to see the castle grounds and fancy robes. He got to see the pretty gardens and the neat street lamps. It just all felt so empty and neat.

He didn't  _ mean _ to at first, but he caused issues. He'd disrupt the training and make it worse for the other kids drafted. He'd make it harder for the head guard who was training them. He was a nice man and Sapnap had apologized but he couldn't help but cause a little bit of an uproar.

He was number two. The second best with a sword but the best with his magic. Better than everyone there but his dismay for the setting was evident and sent him down a rank.

_ Second best _ was his name in this place. It was sour.

He had seen a man talk to the head guard frequently. Green robes and purple pants. An odd set of colors that he had only seen on religious men and few traders who'd walk around town trying to sell their goods.

_ Ice is a few more carats than gold. _

A gift from the wind. A song he heard from the traders and began with the man. It felt vicious and slick.  _ Like ice. _

Sapnap wasn't sure if he liked ice. Fire and ice have forever been against each other in the history and story books. Sapnap felt obliged to go with it. He was fire. He was carried by the wind.

_ Wait. _

Sapnap tended to follow the words of the wind. They brushed his ears with a soft breeze and he enjoyed it. It was comfort, a piece of the past that he could take with him.

So Sapnap waited.

One day his instructor informed him of a meeting he needed to attend with the head guard. He had never personally sat with the head guard one on one and he didn't know if he wanted to. The man may have had no magick but he knew his weapon.

Techno was his name. Hardly an oddity despite the strange letter arrangements. It was common among metal workers and noblemen. But the way people referred to him--  _ no, his blade _ \-- made the name seem like he was the only one who held it. 

_ Techno's Blade _ was a horror story to the enemy and might as well be the throne of a ruler to their lands. 

Sapnap was definitely not nervous.

The room had been lit by a few candles. It was dim but visible and he could feel the way the flames seemed familiar and comfortable.

"Sapnap." Techno had a tired and monotone voice.

"Sir."

"I know you don't like it here, is that right?"

Sapnap swallowed, "Yes sir."

"Would you like to take an opening as an accomplice for a friend's journey?"

"What's the journey?"

" _ Revenge. _ "

Sapnap tilts his head.

_ Ice is a few more carats than gold. _

Did he want to hunt?

He pauses.

It's a way out.

"I'd gladly take it."

Techno gave him a slight smile.

"Good. I'll let him know and send him to get you soon. Pack up."

**George -**

George could do many things.

His mother told him it was a part of his heritage but when he'd ask she'd get that look in her eyes. The look she'd give him when she forgot to cook a dinner or the apples rotted. She'd always answer with a soft " _ I'm sorry, I don't know. _ " before sending him off to work before she returned to hers.

It made him wonder about the past. He couldn't read it. Lot's of the kingdom's books were closer to the castle walls than the old village he lived in and most of it was written for the fire magick folk. The lettering was special for them. Not him.

He was left deviceless with only a natural talent for potions and farming. He was a businessman with little to say and few connections due to his standoffish personality but it was enough to sell and pay taxes. What a wandering trader wouldn't do for invisibility in the night and a bundle or two of wheat for their llamas.

_ Ice is a few more carats than gold. _

It was familiar past the " _ I'm not going to buy your ice." _ and the dismissal of bargaining attempts.

The way his bones felt brittle and his head felt heavy said so. His mother had once again said " _ I don't know _ ." and he left it.

Everything he knew about it was that the traders had been singing it for decades and that it was supposed to get you to buy ice because it's apparently more valuable than gold. It didn't feel right but he took the answer.

It didn't stop George from thinking about it.

He had been tending the crops one day. A surprise frost had fallen over their field and they couldn't risk losing any of it. The taxes had been raised and every price in town had been changed to try and accommodate it. The anarchists in every other house would complain loudly and scare away the birds.

He brushed away the frost. He didn't know how to work with it, it was a new occurrence, and was trying to figure out every possible way to get rid of it.

But he sympathized with the moon and what seemed to be a struggle. She had let the sea come from the ground and become ice. A delicate thing. He knew that the sea must have been having a hard time too. They were strong but had let something make them frail and shatterable.

It was a cold world. His fingers were red.

He felt the soft touch of the moon, it felt like his mother.

_ You're going to be it. _

And George could sense the ocean wave at him.

_ You are a key. _

And George mustered the power to ask like no one had before.

_ To what? _

And the sea  _ smiled _ .

_ The future _ .

And the moon laughed before going back to the ocean, cooling down after a long day of work.

The crops unfrosted.

_ We've waited long enough. _

His mother didn't smile or laugh. She was worried-- very worried-- and she shut the doors and windows and whispered to him a thousand truths of hardships and  _ revenge _ based on the lies of others and needless pressure on a king who couldn't handle it.

She mentioned to him the loss of a culture filled with magnificent architecture and talented folk.

She spoke of the need to keep it secret even behind closed doors and told him to worry about work. The taxes were up.

But he didn't miss the small smiles she sent him and the glances filled with ignorant hope.

_ You are the key. _

When he was a kid his mother told him the sea was never wrong.

_ But you are small. _

He was small.

_ And you know nothing. _

And he knew nothing.

_ But wait. _

George felt like the world had stopped and he needed to make it move.

But he waited anyway.

The village was going to be moved for the construction of a mill. George hated the government he decided.

He had a nice life with his mother and a good enough job to pay high taxes and they rule that their town is less important than money. A waste of good paper, that ruling was. A horrible fate to a tightly knitted town.

George remembers his mother hugging him and wishing him a goodbye when he told her his plans.

_ I'm going west to explore and learn. _

But declined an offer to join him. She was going to assist the elderly in their moving and she was the second best potion brewer around, she could supply medicines.

It was hardly a goodbye. He wished it was because deep down in his gut he felt the sea wave goodbye to her and swish as if to tell him he was starting something that would lead to a future without her.

He hoped she was safe.

He walked.

**Dream -**

Dream had asked the head guard, Techno, to come with him. Techno had declined and had given him a trouble maker.

Dream wasn't sure how much he liked Sapnap. He was good with a sword and skilled at magic but he seemed to be a seed of anarchy. He seemed to not want to be anywhere.

_ Revenge _ is what Techno said he agreed at. Dream didn't know what that said about Sapnap. Sapnap seemed too free of the times to truly want to participate in such things. Dream figures he'll find out in time.

They had started out their journey with a horse and a wagon facing the Eastern wall. There were reports of unfrosted farms that were profiting peasants who didn't need it. His father had given him the scrolls and trusted him with his years of learning. 

_ "You're going to make us the top of the social ladder." _

Ridding of the ice was respectful. Holding up royal traditions kept together a family.

_ "Remember, magick is a sin." _

And Dream was godless.

He never got to learn any magick. He never got to speak to those who had it. It never got out that a religious man's son had a gift from the realms. It never will, his father said so.

He had always hated driving wagons.

"Why are you so uptight?" Sapnap asked him.

"I-- what?"

"Why are you so tense and not fun? Are you sad or something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dismissive too. Wow, you're going to be fun."

Dream sat, confused. He tightened his grip on the reigns.

"Thought you just said otherwise."

Sapnap laughs.

"Didn't know you can make a joke."

"I was serious but okay."

The look Sapnap sends him seemed more confused than he'd been himself.

"Huh."

Sapnap looked forward with furrowed eyebrows.

"We're going to have to fix that."

Dream wasn't sure what needed fixing but he guessed he'd learn.

  
  


They traveled for days across land and through towns. All they had were each other.

  
  


Dream learned a few things over the time. Things his father neglected to do so with and Sapnap told he seemed a lot cooler now.

"Even with my religious clothes?" Dream teased.

"Even with your religious clothes." Sapnap laughed.

When Sapnap found out that his clothing was religious, he seemed to be distant. Dream had been learning about the behavior of others-- or just Sapnap-- and Dream believed that behavior was the worst he'd seen paired with him. He had felt alone

Dream had tried to tell him that he wore it because his father had the robes made for him and when Sapnap asked who his father was he was reluctant to answer. Sapnap didn't like the answer. He didn't like that he was journeying with someone who's father didn't like the idea of magick.

Dream had watched as Sapnap set his hand outside of the wagon. He watched as the wind graced his hand.

His only thought was to ask if Sapnap could spar with him. His hands were calloused, more than even his were.

“Sure, let me tell ya, though. An axe is my preferred tool.”

“I’ll let you use an axe.”

Sapnap smiled at him like he didn’t expect it. “Thanks.”

That’s how they found themselves camping in forests during the night, making a makeshift sparring ring. They both had their weapons, Sapnap’s and Dream’s handcrafted one. They circled each other. Sapnap asked if he could take the first swing.

Dream had complied, he felt that he needed to see how Sapnap moved to be able to properly fight him. He needed to study him so he could know what to expect. It was a tactic his father had taught him and it seemed to be used by Techno himself.

  
  


“Magick?”

Dream hummed, considering it.

“Sure.”

Dream watched as Sapnap led with his right foot, Sapnap gripped his axe tighter and Dream could see fire begin to wave at Sapnap’s feet. It was bright and beautiful. It flowed in the breeze and drifted between Sapnap’s limbs.

Dream had never seen something more majestic.

Dream lifted his sword to block. Sapnap's axe bounced off of his sword with a clang and the weight if it took Sapnap back a step.

It gave Dream the upper hand, he charged at Sapnap, jumped out of the way of a sudden burst of flames. He swung his sword towards Sapnap's legs and hit them with the flat part of his blade.

Sapnap hit the ground with his knees and hissed, reaching behind himself to rub at the area Dream whacked him. Dream circled around the kneeling man to get to the front and offered a hand. Sapnap accepted it and got up with ease.

"You were lucky." Sapnap told him.

"You're an idiot."

"Again?" Sapnap smiled at him.

Sapnap looked to be at home. He was happy and warm and Dream wanted to give him everything he could. Dream could only wish for a world like Sapnap's.

Dream smiled back and nodded.

Dream watched as Sapnap picked up his axe and readied. His gaze burning into him.

Sapnap eyes held  _ fire _ .

_ That _ was beautiful.

**Sapnap -**

Sapnap never knew a man could look so perfect on the end of a sword.

The way Dream held the blade.

_ You are love. _ It read. He couldn't read it but the wind told him.

The way Dream used it to carry himself around the sparring ring. The way it seemed so light in his hand. The way Dream looked so happy, looking back at Sapnap like he was supposed to be there.

It all made Sapnap want to stay.

He had been planning on leaving. He  _ still _ was. He didn't want to stay with a religious man and he didn't want to stay on orders from royalty. Sapnap felt trapped at this point.

While Dream was a liberating presence, he was so drawn back from what he could be. He seemed to just be a shell, overrun by religious teachings that ostracized Sapnap before he could even walk.

Sapnap had seen chances to get away. When Dream was sleeping under the cover of night. He was going to take one. He had only stayed before because Sapnap felt bad for him.

Dream was on a journey for an ancient royal tradition for  _ revenge _ told only in the history books that were mostly propaganda. Dream was a slave to the royal family's own false teachings and he didn't even understand a joke. He didn't understand a verbal cue Sapnap learned when he was four.

Now Dream is getting better, Sapnap could leave.

But they were alone and only had each other. They  _ kissed _ for gods' sake and it made Sapnap's heart explode. 

Dream just looked so beautiful on the end of his sword.

The wind had whistled and blew breezily. The sun had laughed with a good heart. Dream had looked at him like he was the only man in the world, hands in Sapnap's hair and a few words on his lips.

_ You have fire in your eyes. _

And that's all Sapnap's ever wanted.

As soon as Dream had gone to sleep, Sapnap thought. He cried. He would have yelled out to the wind to ask for help but Dream was sleeping so he made his own decision.

Sapnap needed to be alone. He couldn't stay for his own good.

Now he could go home and be sent back to being a trainee, questione on the lack of a man in purple and green in his company or he could leave forever. He could continue east and explore the world. He can meet new people and start a new life, one without a beautiful, misguided man.

He's always wanted to go east.

The wind only hummed. It said nothing to help Sapnap understand.

Sapnap left the wagon a few days from the equinox with a gentle kiss left on Dream's hand and a few tears.

He was alone out here, no one to help him and no one to care about him.

The ghost of a kiss was felt on his lips as the clouds covered the moon and the wind picked up, following directly behind him.

**George -**

The only thing George knew how to do with his magick was cool himself down and make his hands drop to a dangerously low temperature.

It was only useful sometimes. Like when he was walking through a field, sun blazing down on him, or when a stray fire user accidentally hit him with the flames and he needed to cool down the wound. He got a small scar from it, other than that it wasn't too bad.

He knew no one when going west other than a few stray traders humming their tunes or a few of the younger anarchists from his village who were on their way to expose the government. He'd join them if it wasn't such a risky game they were playing.

George missed home. He missed his fields and his mother and the official potion set up he had. He missed the folk who would bang on his door at night asking for some health potions and having to pull out his travel brewing stand to whip something up. At least he had that brewing stand. He had something to do.

He had taken up journalism on his adventure. He wrote about people he's met and the way the weather shifts across the plains. He documented many customs and cultures of various areas. He learned many religions from religious men and women. He'd seen so much and it was so much more than he ever expected to learn in only a few weeks.

It was among other things he didn't expect.

The exhaustion was hurting his traveling speed.

His skin burned like he never had before. He was congested from the growth of spring.

Overall it paled in comparison to the hunger he felt in the dry stretches of land with no towns or orchards, not even a simple wheat field like the ones he was familiar with.

Those days where he could only walk and sleep were the hardest. He moved so slowly and for such little time. He felt like he could have been doing better, for himself or for his mother who he wished to see so often.

He wondered where she was now. If she was safe with their old village folk or if she had been injured on her own journey. She wasn't the youngest, travel wouldn't have been the best for her, but she had no choice to move.

George had done inventory his first night under the stars. He found an old potion bottle with a crumbling cork and a rolled piece of paper inside.

_ Son, I hope you're safe on your journey. I hope you learn and build out in the vast unknown. While I am on my own little adventure I will be thinking of you. I will let you know that I am sick. I can make potions that will help and it will not be my end, but I will be weak. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just hate your sad looks. _

_ You're mother loves you, _

_ Goodbye _

He felt like he should have seen it before. No-- he did. He was just ignoring it. He forgot there was a reason for him to slip those health potions into his mother's bag.

He wondered why he thought of these things while starving in a grass field. The cows moo'd softly at him as he stumbled past. The sun was going down.

He decided to walk for a few more minutes. There was a small wooded area he could sleep in for the night. He might be able to catch a squirrel in the morning for some food.

Storm clouds started rolling in, the trees were smart of George. They covered most of the water droplets. They saved the small fire he made for warmth even if it was already going out.

It got very cold in the night. Too cold to sleep but not cold enough to at least rest. George didn't feel like it mattered too much. He had a gift.

He'd laugh if his stomach wouldn't growl.

George was started by a man with fire in his hands. The man looked distressed and tired.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked.

The man jumped at his presence.

"Nothing much, I'm just getting away."

George smiled tiredly and hummed.

His stomach growled loudly.

"Woah, dude, when was the last time you ate?"

George thought for a few seconds before answering.

"A few days. It's fine, though. Used to it."

"Do you want something?"

George looked at the man. He seemed less distressed but there was a look in his eyes that told George that he was distracted. A slight wind brushed the man's hair into his face.

"If you have something."

"I'll give you some of my food if you let me stay here."

"Wh--"

"Wait. Sorry. I'm just really lonely out here."

George hums again.

"I am too." He gestures to the other side of the dying fire. "Join me."

Another growl.

"Oh-- right. Here." The man hands George so bread and George gestures with the bread as a thanks.

"I'm-- uh-- I'm Sapnap."

George sends a teasing glance to Sapnap.

"George."

"Huh, odd name and accent."

"I'm a long way from home."

Sapnap laughs.

"I am too. Are you trying to get back?"

"No. All there is is a new town where my village used to be. I'm walking on my own for my own."

Sapnap hums to George.

"I'm just running from who everyone wants me to be I guess."

"Oh, really? And what's that?"

"A soldier? A royal guard? A companion?." Sapnap sighs. "At this point the list goes on."

George chokes out a laugh.

"The bread was good, thank you."

"Thanks for the camp."

"Company is nice after being alone for a while."

"A fresh face is nice after running from the people you want to care about."

"Ah. That's a lot more than running."

"How so?"

George shrugged. He sees Sapnap put his hand in the wind.

"Looks like the wind likes you."

"Eh. Bit of a chatterbox."

"That's not too bad."

"It is when I'm trying to focus."

"You don't seem like the type of man to focus."

"How would you know?"

George shrugs again, "Just observant I guess."

Sapnap hums.

George didn't know what to expect the next morning when Sapnap helped him pack up his camp and started a conversation. He didn't know what to expect when Sapnap asked where  _ they _ were going and if he knew how good the weather was going to be. He didn't know what to expect when he laughed at one of Sapnap's jokes and let him come along.

George was happy with the company.

Sapnap was happy for a fresh face.

**Dream -**

When Dream had woken up alone he felt like his world was falling apart.

Sapnap just wasn't there anymore. He spent so many minutes scrambling around just to see if he left something for him or to at least show him that he'd be coming back but there was  _ nothing _ . Just a wagon with his own things.

He didn't understand why it hurt so much to recognize that Sapnap wasn't forever and that a kiss shouldn't have meant anything to him. His chest clenched as he huddled in a corner of his wagon and hit his head against the side. The thud and throb was a comfort to him.

_ Thud. _

Rain had fallen that day and vines grew in between the wagon planks to comfort him. He swatted them away and they didn't come back. He wanted them back.

He wanted  _ him _ back.

_ Thud. _

Dream's father always told him that he was an ugly crier. Dream believed his father. He sobbed.

_ Thud. _

Dream could feel a small amount of blood drip down the back of his head. He was fine. The pain was so little in comparison to the pains in his chest.

Dream had been stabbed before; in the chest. Just under the collar bone on his right side, but never in the heart. Never caused by someone just leaving him.

_ Thud. _

He felt like a child. His father had told him many times that men don't cry, and if they did then they were weak. His heart believed it but his mind wasn't sure. He had seen Techno cry and he was strong so logically, men could cry.

He didn't know. Something about the way he tried to keep in his ragged breaths and the way his throat was tensed to a point of burning made him feel like logic wasn't something that was going to sink in.

_ "Why don't you cry? I saw a man weep when he lost his wife, you lost your wife." _

_ Thud. _

_ "Men don't cry. Pussies and women do." _

Dream wasn't a pussy and he still wept. Even if it was strangled.

Dream let himself yell.

Men yelled.

In war there was screaming. Half of any bar fights he saw had been mostly yelling. His father never said anything about yelling.

_ Thud. _

Dream didn't like yelling and it didn't help. It reminded him of when his father had first built his temple and called families to gather in its pews so they can learn about the gods his father found. He remembers a poor family's son crying from exhaustion, interrupting the lesson. Lastly he remembers his father yelling down the grand hall to the small family, slurs spewing out of his mouth, telling them that their son was going to become a devil.

Maybe the boy would, Dream didn't care, he just felt like the yelling was unwarranted and demonic. Dream knew, as the son of a religious man, that demons were something you want to stay away from.

_ Thud. _

Nothing.

Nothing was safe.

_ You are godless. _

The moon was awake, even behind the storm clouds.

_ You are love. _

But was he loved?

After all, he was alone in a wagon away from home.

He felt like an empty jar being tossed around roughly as he travelled the rocky road. The wagon bounced and shook until it jumped a little too high and the whole thing tipped.

He wasn’t hurt too much, his wrist was just a little sore, nothing new.

Dream detached the horse from the reins and scrambled through the jumbled wreckage for his stuff.

Dream was better at riding horses on their own anyway.

**Sapnap -**

_ He can be perfect. _

Sapnap's head picked up. He didn't know who the wind was talking about. He had been thinking about Dream but was looking at George.

"Hey, Sapnap hold this. I'm going to write, just keep following the map and I'll follow after."

He takes George's map and compass and a bag of food Sapnap had stolen from the last town they went by. He had a hard time reading maps but George would help him if he needed it.

_ They are the same, no? _

Sapnap didn't think they were.

_ You see, I have no eyes, but I know feelings. _

Sapnap thought it was confusing taking to wind. Sometimes the wind was too quiet or too loud. If it was every perfect volume it missed context.

_ They  _ feel _ the same to you. _

Sapnap sometimes ignored the wind. Wind was messy and Sapnap already has enough mess.

Sapnap looked at the map, then the compass. He considers them before stopping, George bumps into him and in a panicky movement closes his journal.

"George, I think I might've gone off course. Can you check?" 

He hands George the map who takes it and studies it. George holds his hand out for the compass and Sapnap gives it to him.

George spins a circle, eyes never leaving the compass.

_ You seem to like his eyes? _

The wind was loud today.

George hums, "Yeah, looks like you've moved a little more South than we want to be." 

"Sorry."

"It's an easy fix. Just an extra minute of walking."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, look--" George points at a part on the map, "we're here. We can just cut through this section and get to where we need to be soon enough."

Sapnap looked at the map, studying it as George's finger graced the paper and traced a path. It crossed over mountains.

"Mountains?"

George looked at Sapnap. "Yeah."

"Wouldn't it get really cold and be hard to traverse?"

George shrugged, "I've done it before. We should be fine."

_ This boy you walk with is quite optimistic. _

Sapnap would have to agree with the wind on that. For this at least.

  
  


When they had traveled to the base of the first mountain, the sun had begun to set, setting fire to the horizon before bathing in the sea. 

They decided to set up a small camp so they could rest before difficult travel. Sapnap made a small fire and George sat off to the side enjoying the view of the dimming sky.

Sapnap had sat to join him, a small smile on his face.

"It's nice isn't it?"

"Yeah, even if I can't _ really  _ see it."

"What?"

Sapnap turned to George, pouting slightly.

"I can't see red or green."

"Why? Were you cursed or something?"

George laughs softly, "No. Just how I was born, idiot."

"You sure your mother wasn't cursed?"

George shook his head, smile on his face and eyes closed. He glowed.

"What does the sunset look like then?"

George hummed, opening his eyes to look again, "Yellow. It gets a little darker the farther up you go but then it just becomes the blue-grey."

"Huh. You're weird." Sapnao playfully shoves George. George grabs his hand before he can take it away and then leads their hands to the grass they were sitting on.

"You're stupid." 

The wind danced around them, brushing at their hair and whistling.

The wind was quiet that night.

  
  


The mountains had been cold.

Sapnap held his flame in his hand, cradling George's in another. George felt so  _ cold _ . Sapnap was trying to warm him up at least a little.

George didn't seem to mind. His nose was tinted pink and his skin was pale, but he didn't care.

Sapnap's skin was itching. The air bit at him like swarming bugs and he was extremely uncomfortable.

"George, we-- we should have just skipped out on the mountain."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? It's cold." Sapnap whined.

"Oh." George rubbed Sapnap's hands and glanced at the large size of the fire in his hand. "Is it really that bad? I know it's cold I just-- I didn't think it'd be that cold."

Sapnap looked, unbelieving, at George before stopping and grabbing both of his hands.

"Have you not noticed?" George shook his head. "How have you noticed? You are absolutely freezing right now, you're basically an ice cube, and you just don't notice the cold?"

George blushes and goes to speak but Sapnap does before he can.

"Are you dying or something? I've heard of people dying in the cold. They-- they get really warm before the cold kills them. Are you really warm?"

George scoffs and shakes his head.

"I'm not going to die. I am  _ cold, _ it's just not that bad for me. I'm fine."

Relief floods Sapnap before seeing George's eyebrows furrow and feeling cold hands encase his face.

"Sapnap, your lips are blue. Are you okay?"

Sapnap would love to relax into the touch but he can't. The touch is cold and so was he.

"I'm freezing, dude."

"Oh,  _ fuck. _ I'm so stupid Sapnap. I'm sorry."

"What? No it's okay--"

"Dammit, you have fire magick and probably aren't able to deal with cold climates and--"

"George, it's fine. Let's just keep going so we can get out of here faster."

George nodded, whispering an  _ okay _ and grabbing Sapnap's hand before quickly. He didn't look at the map to see where he was going. Sapnap realises the whole time they were in the mountains he hadn't and that he had just listened.

_ He can be perfect. _

What?

_ Revenge is a silly game. _

"Oh, gods."

George whipped his head around, eyebrows furrowed.

"Ice?" Sapnap says shakily, he felt like he should have said many things. He could get out the one word.

Sapnap watched as George's face went blank and panic pooled in the brown of his eyes. It's all Sapnap needed as an answer.

They eventually got out of the mountain, sharing no more words and only setting up camp. George was sullen and his hands shook, Sapnap was probably making him panic. The worried and fearful glanced his way were all the answers he needed.

The wind brushed at his hair.

_ They feel similar, you see now? _

Sapnap wished to hug George, for at least something, but he couldn't ask for that especially if it was a parting gift. He only cried as George slept and he ran away in the night.

_ Revenge  _ was a stupid and horrible game. A tragedy among the generations.

Sapnp knew he fell in love easily but he never thought he'd be unlucky enough to fall in love with two players in the game.

It felt so similar to the last time, leaving one for the other with nothing to hint at his existence. The wind brushing at his hair and playing with his hand.

He had to hurry and find Dream. There was an idea he needed to plant in his head.

The wind had spoken at a perfect volume but it was painful.

A traders song rang out.

**George -**

George knew that revenge was a dangerous game. More for him than others and one rooted in hate and build on a foundation of bad decisions. It was a horror story his mother told him when he was young before he knew it affected him.

He had heard it so many times-- he remembered most of it. It wasn't that hard to learn.

_ Once there was a bitter king-- _

No. That's not right.

_ Once there was a civilization of ice, a bitter city and a king who couldn't help but listen. _

George could almost hear his mother's voice.

_ The king was often told to be a kind man, gracious and thoughtful. A star had been birthed in his heart, a weak one, but still a star.  _

_ The king was also weak. Weak in his words and direction, following what others told him with hardly any question. _

_ The city was filled with magick, hot and red, burning with the passion of it's folk. It was beautiful once, but then the passion fueled anger. _

George always hated that part. The way everything could have been perfect until it wasn't. It had been one of George's first introductions to the lack of permanence. 

_ And the anger was because of greed. Fire is greedy sometimes. It wants to take and it can but many stop it. _

_ The year the greed got the worst, there was a late frost. A very bad late frost that killed the crops and starved the livestock. It took away many people's source of income. _

_ The only people who it didn't affect were the ice folk. They could control the ice, take it away and keep the crips alive, they could still earn money to feed themselves and their families. _

_ The fire people asked them to save their crops, but they refused. After all, the year before the fire had burned their main barn. The ice thought of it as a way of repayment, letting families starve. _

_ The fire people didn't like that, so they took it to the king. _

_ They pressured the king to do something about the ice folk, to get rid of them and take the money they earned. The king was horrible under pressure, and after a few weeks of constant stress, he decided to take it to his advisor to take care of the issue. _

_ The advisor was an evil man, he had a personal vendetta against the ice folk and let that affect his work as he wrote out the orders. _

_ No one knows what was written on the pages, but it led to the hunting of the ice folk. _

_ They had been chased out of their homes and killed. A war began and civilization crumbled. It had gone in for years before the king died. _

_ Officials ruled that he had died of the stress caused by the war. _

_ Word travelled and changed, jumbled into a mess, and became a new tradition. A game. _

Revenge. _ It was called. _

_ Revenge for a king who was killed by ice, upheld but the King's children and so forth. _

_ Death to a civilization. _

George only ever wished for it to be a bad dream, one that would end soon so he could wake up and hug his mother. It was a bad story to tell a kid but was helping him now.

He knew he had been being hunted. He heard so in a bar, a man had said something about a man with royal blood picking up on the tradition. He also heard the rumor that the man hadn't found anything and apparently didn't know what he was looking for. 

He had just wanted to ignore it. If he didn't fear then he could possibly get past it. Maybe he could move faster than a horse if he didn't wait long enough to get caught.

That's why he went through the mountains. A horse couldn't go through those and it would put anyone that could ever follow him a few hours behind. He should have let himself think clearly, though. He should have thought of the possibility that Sapnap could possibly find out.

He did, it didn't matter anymore, but now George was alone and left to travel with only his maps and an empty heart.

The next day he didn't bother setting up a camp, he was going to walk through the night with the moon. He didn't have a torch so he tripped every once in a while once he'd gotten to a forest. He never knew twigs could be so hazardous.

He walked for an hour, all there were trees and light brushes of wind. He found that he enjoyed the near silence.

Eventually he sees a light, it's a fire only a few dozen feet up ahead. He hides in the trees and moves closer, not actually wanting to confront anyone he could meet. Once he was close enough to see the campsite, he crouches behind a bush to see who is there.

It's just a man, man who seemed to be a long way from home and George was fairly certain was the one hunting him.

_ You know nothing. _

It seemed like going through the mountains didn't help him. It only got him closer to being six feet under.

_ But wait. _

A trader's tune rung out from the man's throat. It was gross and choppy, something George wished he never heard, but the way it pulled at his heart like it wanted him to get closer was enticing. He just might take the invitation.

Right when George was going to approach the man and the fire, he's pulled further back into the trees.

"George! You can't do that!" An upsettingly familiar voice whispered.

George groans. He had hit the floor fairly hard and he had forgotten to eat so his empty stomach sloshed uncomfortably.

"You aren't that stupid, are you?"

"What the fuck, Sapnap?"

Sapnap kneeled down next to George and took his face in his hands.

"You suck." George tells him, deadpanned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know but you can't be this dumb."

"Maybe I am."

Sapnap studies him for a moment.

“You definitely know he’s after you.”

“Maybe. Are you?”

Sapnap squeezes his face a little.

“Not anymore.”

“Is that why you left? Because you weren’t after me? Or because someone else was?”

Sapnap stays quiet.

“Are you scared of being hunted? I am but I can’t run.”

George brings his hands up to Sapnap’s and pulls them off of his face with a grimace. He moves to get up but is pulled back to the ground by Sapnap.

“Wait, George. I left because of him.” Sapnap gestures to the man sitting by the campfire, humming.

“Why?”

“I left him before I found you. I wanted to try and find him again and get him off the path he was on.”

“So you know him?”

Sapnap nodded. George thought for a moment in the silence.

“What if we do something?”

Sapnap squints at him.

“What if you introduce me to him,” George jabs a finger in the direction of the man, “and I join your group.”

Sapnap looks at him with a dumbfounded look. “Okay, you’re actually fucking crazy.”

“Again,  _ maybe _ . I’m just tired. I don’t want to travel alone, running from someone I don’t know the location of.”

“I already told him that I know where the ice user was.”

“Are  _ you _ crazy?” George scoffs, “Still.”

“Okay yeah, you have lost it.”

“Maybe I can charm him into not wanting to hunt me like I did you.”

“While he’s chasing you, trying to take your hands and cut out your heart? That’ll be easy.” Sapnap pauses, “Also-- that is not what happened!”

“You sure Sappy-nappy?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Lots, I guess.”

Sapnap groans, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“You just want to die don’t you?”

George hiccups a laugh.

“Maybe.”

Sapnap looks in the campfire’s direction, “Damnit, George. You suck.”

“So… Are you going to introduce me?”

Sapnap groans, “Sure, I’ll also be writing a speech for your funeral.”

George places a hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, a smile gracing his face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. If you find my mother, tell her I hope she gets better.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Uhm… Okay?”

George had stood, extending a hand out to Sapnap to take. Sapnap took it, pulling himself up and for a second neglected to let go, squeezing George’s hand.

“I’ll miss you when you’re dead.”

George smiles, “I’ll see you there, just hopefully not soon.”

Sapnap laughs.

The moon smiles.

The sea waves.

**Dream -**

Dream had never pointed his sword at a man without at least a conversation beforehand. 

Actually-- that wasn't true. Dream reminded himself of one time years ago when his father had wished to duel someone. It was a horribly hot day and no one had dared draw their sword on a rumored insane holy man.

His father had been frustrated and when Dream had gone to comfort him, the man had clumsily picked his sword off the table he had been weeping over. The metal scratching over the wood had made Dream flinch. He had seen the end of the sword-- had fought it through blurry vision and tear stained sleeves before leaving his weak and collapsed father in the yard, yelling into the sky with tears in his eyes.

Needless to say, it was not a very fond moment in Dream's history. 

Although there were no tears and his father was nowhere in sight, frustration getting the better of him, Dream couldn't help but remember. Dream didn't deal with pain when it came, he saved it over days, letting it hide in the dark so he can ignore it. Some days it's just become too bright and Dream couldn't ignore it anymore.

Dream might as well have been blinded. All he could see at the end of his sword was someone who could very well morph into his father. Create an ice sculpture of the man possibly.

The moon reflected in his sword. It was what made him stal-- even he couldn't resist the beauty of the moon and he wished to never disrespect her.

Dream was sure  _ revenge _ was a horrible thing in her eyes. Ice was afterall one of her gifts.

Disrespect a beauty or his father and his royal blood.

Dream felt like he had to ask himself that alot.

"Sapnap-- what the fuck."

Sapnap's wind blew anxiously, most likely mimicking Sapnap himself. Dream wasn't able to read the expression on his face.

Dream wanted this to be a joke. Sapnap had told him how he traveled with an ice user and left as soon as he found out. Sapnap told him that the ice user was nice and that he wished for Dream to reconsider what he was doing.

_ "I traveled with him." _ Was all Dream needed to pull out his swords, his father in his head.

"Sapnap." Dream said again. It was in a warning tone, one his father would use on him.  _ God could that man leave his head. _

_ We can make him. _

The sun scared Dream, the tone was unfamiliar for the celestial being. Dream said no. Or  _ not yet _ was closer to the feelings he sent to the sun who should have been asleep in the ocean at that time.

"Dream." Sapnap told him. "Don't, please. For me?"

Dream wanted to do anything for Sapnap.

He couldn't.

"Not about this."

"What?" Sapnap sounded dangerous, like he was protecting a small animal. "Is your father in your head? Is that royal blood of yours treating you good?"

Dream shifted and looked at the man at the end of his sword.

Maybe Sapnap was.

This man seemed very small far past his physical appearance.

He also seemed very bold.

_ Who was this? _

"Dream." 

_ What was he doing? _

  
  


_ What are you doing? _

The moon spoke swiftly.

Dream felt like any motherly disappointment he could have ever earned if he had a mother could have been held in the moon's beams as she scolded him.

"Dream, if you're going to take him in, at least keep him alive."

He had never thought about that. His father had always seemed to throw life away so easily.

Dream swings his sword, his grip slipping slightly, the realms were not happy. He puts it in its scabbard. The sound of metal resonated in the walls of his heart. It beat loudly and nervously.

"Fine."

Sapnap took in a breath of relief.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, you're on thin ice."

Sapnap stopped his miniscule celebration to look at him. The way Sapnap studied him made Dream glad that the world wasn't in Sapnap's favor. It relayed Sapnap's heartbeat to him and Dream didn't want his mask to fail him.

"Thank you, Dream." The man smiled at him. A normal man wouldn't smile in the face of death like that. It put Dream on edge.

"Your name?"

"What? You're not gonna treat me like a prisoner and call me such?" The man's voice had an edge to it.

"No."

George smiles slightly. "George." 

"Well George, you get to sleep outside the tent because it's small."

"I'm good with that."

Turns out condemning a man to sleeping outside a two person tent when there were already two people inside it was too much on Dream's conscious.

He tried his best not to make it seem like he wasn’t directly asking George to come inside the tent. That was embarrassing and would make it seem like he didn’t know what he was doing. Like he wasn’t so sure at how to hold a prisoner. He left the tent a few hours after going in and walking into the forest a little before going back and shaking George awake.

“There are wolves getting close, you should probably come in the tent.”

“Wolves?” George looks scared for a second before he masked it with a cool cockiness. “What about wanting me dead before?”

Dream sighs, George was full of it. Dream didn’t know if that was a good personality trait.

“Sapnap would be sad.”

George hums, “wouldn’t want Sapnap upset.”

“Of course not, he’s a bit of a bitch.”

George laughs and rolls up the cloth they had given him to sleep on and moves to the tent. 

Dream had decided to sleep between Sapnap and George. Sapnap hadn’t asked for the ice user to sleep in the tent and Dream didn’t want to surprise him with it. It only really was misfortunate for Dream who was squished up against Sapnap and only had an inch of space between him and George. It was awkward and Dream wasn’t sure if this had been a good idea. Maybe his odd guilt complex.

Dream’s hands were cold.

There’s a howl that comes from the trees. George flinches and turns on his side, away from Dream and towards the tent wall. Dream guesses there were actually wolves. Maybe this was a good idea.

There’s another howl-- a pained one and the sudden cry of a pup. Dream has heard it before.

Dream turns and places his head on Sapnap’s shoulder, positioning himself where his hands can be warmed up by their shared body heat.

  
  


_ Dream has had dreams (nightmares?) about his studies before. This was nothing new. _

_ It always started out with the tale of an old king and the arbitrary actions of ice users that delved into many ways royal blood can thank it’s ancestor’s work by capturing and killing ice users. A way to repay the loyalists to the crown. _

_ For this reason Dream never understood why it was called  _ revenge _. Revenge was a gross thing that could be seen as a boulder blocking the waterflow of a river.  _

_ Then again the tradition was probably outdated from how long it had been going on. It was flawed in many ways as it was. _

Capture the village and pillage it, bring in it’s people.

_ There were no more villages of ice users. The population of them was far too low. They moved in family units now, or just singles. _

_ The studies had also told Dream that no one from the direct throne progression participated in these activities anymore. The princes just sat at the foot of the throne already praised by the king without them having to work for it. _

_ Like the rest of us, his father had said.  _

_ His father also told him that since the ice users were so terrified of being caught and killed, the tradition had become optional. Dream just had to do it because of the royal dislike for his father's church and his father wanted his non magickal heir higher up on the social ladder. _

_ What a shame his son was godless. A joke. _

_ Dream always dreamed he was sitting at his work table, a board in front of him and large stacks of papers and scrolls tossed around. His father would kill him if he saw it like this. It was so different from the organized stacks his father had and told him to replicate. _

_ He just  _ couldn't, _ why was that so bad? _

_ He dreamed about reading the stories and history book based on or retelling the events that led to  _ revenge _ being created. He could never dream the words, the pages were always blank, but it felt like he didn't need them. It felt like they were never there in the first place. _

_ "Tell me, how did the king repay those who played  _ revenge _ and won?" _

_ "He paid them in riches and titles. He got those who one a place in his government." _

_ "And how would that help us?" _

_ "It would get non-magick people higher up the social ladder and gain respect for the church." _

_ His father would always smile, Dream ways got it right. He just wasn't sure what he was saying half the time. It was all memorized and practiced. _

_ Dream hated these dreams, they felt awfully lonely. From the plain walls to the neat stacks it all felt like he was sitting there waiting for something to happen. _

_ Maybe he was, he wasn't so sure. _

  
  


Turned out traveling with George wasn't as bad as talking to him. 

It wasn't like talking to George was necessarily bad, it was just painful and hard from how often George pulled up a mask of faux confidence. While they were traveling, though, it seemed like George's head just stayed in his map or to their surroundings. He talked to Sapnap every once in a while but Dream didn't listen.

It was kind of hard to listen to Sapnap talk to someone else.

Dream didn't know where this jealousy came from but he found it annoying and unreasonable. He wished it would stop. For now it just simmered in his chest, ready to boil over.

The sun was getting ready to set, the mood was already in the sky. Her stare bore down on his back as they traveled west to the castle where he would finish this game and give back to his father.

With each step the dismay for his father that lived in his chest grew.

"Dream, how much longer till we set up camp? My feet hurt." Sapnap whined from behind him.

Dream smiled and he could feel his magic swarm his heart, it tried bleeding out through his dry palms but he halted it.

"Uh--", he looks to the sky, checking for the moon as if he didn't constantly know where she was anyway. "How about another mile and we'll find a place to sleep?"

"Uhg, a mile." George complained.

"Oh, come on George. That's not that far."

George laughs.

Dream liked how it sounded.

He ignores that.

George seemed way too comfortable in his position as a prisoner. Maybe Dream really didn't know how to treat people he captures. Maybe Dream just wasn't cut out for this.

He ignores that as well. He laughs with George.

  
  


Dream notices as they travel that George and Sapnap bicker like old friends. It was after Sapnap seemed to realise that Dream didn't have the heart to abuse their prisoner and the visible tensionin his shoulders had been released. It was like they had known each other forever and couldn't be separated.

Dream wasn't going to lie to himself. For the first few nights it made him feel quite lonely. The bitter maroon jealousy had come in waves. It was practically unbearable and constantly graced his mind in disgusting manners.

He did his best to join in. It was something he wasn't used to and had to learn but he had a decent start. Nothing had gotten too awkward from a few misplaced words and accidental obvious favoritism on his part.

He wished he could stop the way his heart wrenched when facing the fact the Sapnap had a friend that he seemed to be closer with.

Dream learned the way George's humor was something he'd have to learn. It was sarcastic and confused Dream sometimes, very different from Sapnap's obvious and easy to reach humor.

Dream enjoyed talking to people like this, it may have been new but it felt like it was always meant to be.

  
  


Dream wakes up one morning a few days later and laughs with his  _ friends _ . 

That's what they are, he realises. They were a group of friends traveling, who met traveling. Such a shame one had duties and one was walking to his death. One was just stuck in the middle.

At least they all had smiles on their faces for the time being.

Unrest boiled in his chest like how his father’s anger did his whole body.

**Sapnap -**

Sapnap was between a rock and a hard place. Or just Dream and George. 

He fell in love easily, what could he say. He held so much in his heart and he wanted to share it with everything and no one at the same time and he found that Dream and George could be that. One was everything that people wished to be, royal blood coursing through his veins with a clear purpose. The other was just a man who had nothing and was considered no one, an unfortunate man with a gift he probably didn't even want.

_ They feel the same again. _

The wind only pointed out the obvious and Sapnap wished they didn't do it again.

Yeah maybe they did feel the same. Maybe they always had but that didn’t mean he had to recognise that. Ignorance is bliss.

The path they traveled back to the kingdom was heavily wooded most of the way. Nothing like the plains and mountains Sapnap had traveled with George on and walking on foot was a lot slower than the wagon. 

Sapnap's feet hurt and he almost missed the wagon. It held good memories and would have been more convenient but Sapnap had made quite a big and bad decision in the time of the wagon.

He guessed it wasn't so bad since he met George but he also guessed it wouldn't have mattered anyway. He was going to die anyway.

Or maybe not. Maybe Dream realised that  _ revenge _ wasn’t something he should finish. Sapnap saw how Dream was trying and was ultimately succeeding. Sapnap had seen how Dreamn talked about his father and he had only ever seen the same emotions on Dream’s face on another man who was trying to get away from government control that Sapnap had to take in as a trainee exercise. 

If Dream was a prisoner of his father’s word maybe things wouldn’t turn out. Or maybe like the man he was trying to escape. Honestly, Sapnap didn’t know what he was trying to look for, what he was trying to read in between the lines. They were heavily blurred and he wasn’t even sure if the lines were ever lines in the first place.

They still had four days left before they found themselves in front of the unreasonably large castle that made up Dream’s home. It could never be his.

Maybe, if they got the chance, Sapnap and George could leave.

Maybe Dream could live with that.

When Sapnap had found Dream, he looked horrible. He had bags under his eyes and a sprained wrist that wasn’t being taken care of. He had jumped when he had seen Sapnap and had just about crumbled in Sapnap’s arms claiming that he was tired. Sapnap had taken control of the horse and let Dream sleep and after a while of thinking, Sapnap blamed himself for Dream’s state. He felt like that was reasonable.

For now they walked, Dreams horse carrying everything, buckles hitting each other in a steady beat. Dream hummed a tune with them.

_ Ice is a few more carats of gold. _

After a few more rounds of the humming, George spoke up.

“What is that?” George paused. “It’s familiar and I have heard traders singing it but I don’t know why.”

Dream had slowed his pace in front of them and tilted his head just a small amount.

“It’s a lullaby, I would have assumed you would know it.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why?”

“Ice magick users used it to encourage the children that their magick is useful.” Dream had recited it, that was something memorised.

“Oh, I didn’t get any of that.” George says, “Encouragement.” He said the last word with pauses between the syllables.

“Wouldn’t your parents want you to make a living off of your natural skills? Make it a hell of a lot harder for other users and people?” Dream asked.

George scoffs, humored, “I did do that but the only thing making it hard for my village was the raised taxes and government decisions that led to the village people to move. That’s why I left.”

Sapnap decides to cut in, “What did you do? You never told me before.”

George smiles, “Maybe I won’t.”

“Awe.” Sapnap fakes a pout.

“I assume something with potions.” Dream says. He had started walking at his normal pace again.

“Wow, Dream. Not letting me have my fun?”

“Never.”

George shakes his head and turns to Sapnap, “I farmed and did potions. That's why I have my brewing set and my journal. I wanted to catalog plants I found in case they could have been useful in farming.”

“Ahh-- okay.” Sapnap waits a moment, “What kind of potions did you make the most?”

George thinks for a moment, “Probably health or weakness.”

Sapnap hums, “Why weakness?”

“The medicine we had was often not received well by the sick and elderly so doctors had to get them weak so they could heal them.”

“How’d you get golden melons for the health potions?” Dream cut in, “Didn’t you say your village’s taxes were up? The gold could have helped.”

George smiled, “There would be no need for a village if everyone was sick, I also met a few helpful traders around there and I had enough to buy it from them.”

“Have you ever used your magick for bad?” Dream asked, oddly aggressive. It didn’t sound like him. “If you did we might have to put that under your charges.”

Even Sapnap could feel the moon in that moment. She may have only just started creeping above the horizon and Sapnap might have not had a connection with her but it felt like she was upset.

George stops, “Huh?” He seemed bewildered by the sudden change of tone and attitude that was basically unprovoked. “No-- What’s with that?”

George seemed like he was getting ready to argue and Sapnap didn’t quite know what to do. He placed a hand on George’s arm and sent a worried glance to Dream who wore a blank expression.

The sun steamed from under the ocean where he had just recently gone down.

“What’s with what? You’re possibly dangerous, I almost forgot so I’m trying to recognize that now.”

_ Maybe they were wrong. _

The wind was upsettingly quiet for how shifty it had become in the last minute.

“If I wanted to hurt anybody I probably wouldn’t be here.” George scoffs, “My mother would have hated that.”

_ Maybe he doesn’t love. _

“My father would love it.”

This wasn’t Dream. It couldn’t be.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone.” George said, voice filled with conviction.

Sapnap could see the way Dream seemed to realise what he was doing, the guilt that filled his eyes for a second and went unnoticed by George.

_ Does he? _

The wind seemed unsure.

Sapnap was unsure.

They had walked for another hour and set up camp. Dream had immediately disappeared inside the small tent and George and Sapnap sat outside, around the fire.

They sat close. The wind was still shifting anxiously and the simmering magick of the moon was still felt on him. Or maybe that was George.

"Why does the wind follow you?" George asked him solemnly, eyes on the fire.

"My mom asked the sun to give me what she would have gotten, the sun asked the wind to watch me. They really like to talk."

"The wind?"

"Yeah."

_ He really loved her. _

"They tell me vague things that I feel like I shouldn't or should already know."

"Like?"

"Like about you."

"Oh." George stops for a moment. "Your mom must be special."

"The sun loved her I guess. I miss her, she had a fire in her eyes that I'll never have."

George scoffs, "I don't know, your eyes are pretty fire-y."

And although George wasn't good with words, they still meant a lot to Sapnap and his heart felt like it could beat after death.

A shame he hadn't heard it from Dream since before he left. A shame that he had felt like it was a lie for so long. A shame the Dream was sulking in his tent and listening to everything they were saying.

Sapnap had laughed and held his hand out to George who took it. Sapnap squeezed George's hand and the only thing that really mattered was him.

"I felt the moon earlier-- when Dream accused you of doing bad."

George hummed, "Really?"

"Yeah. She seemed pretty upset."

"Odd, I didn't feel her. The sea comforted me but I didn't feel the moon."

Sapnap's eyebrows furrowed, "Weird."

_ She isn't just his. _

Sapnap would keep that noted for later.

"I don't think that was Dream talking, by the way."

George only hums in response.

"It didn't sound like him, that isn't how he treats people."

"Are you sure?"

Sapnap thinks for a moment, almost unable to answer before deciding, "Yes."

George looks at him tightening his grip on his hand, "You love him don't you?"

"Maybe." Sapnap's grip tightens as well.

George lifts their connected hands and waves them a little, "Then what's this?"

"Maybe the same thing."

George scoffs but leans into Sapnap a little.

"He's alright I guess." And Sapnap's heart picks up.

That is, before it drops. Three days wasn't enough time for Dream.

**George -**

George had been planning to leave.

Of course he was, he didn't want to be imprisoned and killed for a sick game of worthless revenge.

There was just something about how Dream could tell him more about where his magick comes from. Something about how his culture wasn't lost to everyone but him. He wanted to learn about it.

Sapnap also had him stuck. He didn't want to admit that to himself, though.

Three days away was a little late for him to start asking but considering all the time they don't use for talking, it may be possible to learn at least something.

They had been walking. George could feel the moon now, just barely. He had been trying to since Sapnap had talked about her the night before. He had just been able to after silently asking to at least get a simmer of her all night.

It felt almost the same as when George had met a water magick user who came from the North. The sea had looked past him and onto her because in that moment George was not the water, just a lesser child of the moon.

So, it made no sense to George why the moon would look past him and onto a religious non user.

At least George  _ thought _ Dream was a non user. Sapnap never said he was and Dream never talked about those kinds of things when it was brought up in conversation. George knew that Dream had royal blood and only about half the family tree was gifted to by the realms.

George had never seen realm magick before. He had every other magick, from traveling on his part or theirs, but never had he met a person of royal descent with the ability to beckon the worlds.

George had heard people talk about the old time festivals where the realm magick users would show everyone their power alongside everyone else. He had heard about the ways they could stop the waves with the moon, for the sea was at her beck and call. He had heard about the way they could melt the snow with the sun even if the clouds were thick and cast shadows across the land. He had heard about how the earth beneath them would gladly wake up if they asked. The earth almost never woke up for anyone, she was only there for the old who would soon lay to rest with her.

“Sapitus?” George asked.

“Huh?” Sapnap sounded surprised to be talked to. George guessed that seemed reasonable, he almost never started a conversation.

“Has the sun ever looked past you?” When George saw Sapnap’s confused expression, he continued, “Like-- like if you're in a room with other people who the sun has gifted to, does he ever just look past you?”

“Uhh, yeah. Mostly to my mother if anyone is in a room with her but I don’t think the sun favors me much. I’m almost never who he looks at.”

“Okay, how about here where you’re the only one around?”

“Sometimes, I don’t know, I mostly just feel the wind anyway.”

George hummed, “How about you Dream?”

Dream jumped, “What?” The word was quick and the ‘t’ was sharp.

The trees shook.

The moon switched to him.

The moon was a bit overwhelming, but he tried his best to push down the surge of magick.

“Nothing, sorry. Forgot you didn’t have magick.”

“Oh, okay.”

And the trees let go.

That seemed plain and simple.

George thought back to when Dream had his sword directed at him.

Dream was a bit god-like wasn’t he?

_ He is godless. _

Doesn’t mean he can’t be a god himself. 

“Hey, Dream?” George was going to ask.

Was he?

“Yeah?”

It was a bit personal wasn’t it?

“What’s the rest of the lullaby? I’ve only ever heard the first line said over and over again.”

“That’s what most have heard.”

“Can you sing it for us?”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Change it up?” Sapnap cut in when he heard Dream's slightly more aggressive tone. “Just for us?”

Dream stops and looks around, he looks nervous.

“Uh-- I can write it down for you?”

George hums and takes out his journal, flipping to a page and handing it to Dream, “Close enough.”

George just wanted to learn and hopefully not die.

He watched Sapnap as he watched Dream write. George could see the love that Sapnap had looked at him with the night before. He found that it fit. It was soft and determined and thoughtful. While Dream didn’t have that it seemed a lot like if he was given those things he’d thrive more than even he thinks would be possible.

George found that once he got the journal back, his heart loved the writing.

Maybe it was the way the handwriting fell off from something so elegant and practiced into a sloppy set of letters. Maybe it was the way each line had a quick explanation that held some personality in it. 

It fit Dream so well, it felt magick all in itself.

At the end there had been a small note, “ _ Best heard not read. (Maybe later) _ ” and it sounded like a broken promise but he smiled at Dream anyway.

_ Ice is a few more carats than gold _

_ There's a good reason we live a life seeking cold _

_ The sun may be hiding but the moon's smile is warmth enough _

_ We can all live like diamonds in the rough _

_ We live like kings in a castle of snow _

_ We live a life where love should be shown _

_ Wipe away the tears and replace the fear in others eyes _

_ We can give everyone a beautiful surprise _

_ Brew a potion for the weak _

_ Be as strong as a wooly ox _

_ Take the ice from the crops  _

_ Bring the ice and we'll see who tops _

**Dream -**

Two days turn to one.

Dream could feel the guilt slowly fill him. He didn't know what to do with it. He tried to repress it but that only ever turned him angry and bitter.

The way his magick tried peaking through didn't help. His high emotions made everything around him want to bend and move but that only made him more anxious.

He felt very alone.

It didn't matter that he definitely heard Sapnap and George talking about how Sapnap loved him. He definitely also heard that Sapnap loved George and if Dream was in that position, he would choose George over himself. It was the safer and more rewarding option even if George was due to be put to death. Dream was obviously not reliant and probably dangerous from how skewed and misguided his emotions were.

And who could possibly believe that he can send someone to their death. Especially if it's someone he cared about for the sake of someone he loved.

Dream wished he wasn't knee deep in relationship issues while also dealing with so many others. He was just uncomfortable with everything he did and every decision he made.

Probably because most of them were wrong, half of it done on purpose. Dream thought that if he could disconnect himself from the person he wished to be then maybe he wouldn't care when George died-- maybe he wouldn't care when he never saw Sapnap again.

They walked, wordlessly, for miles. It was times like this Dream wished for a wagon. Not  _ the _ wagon but a new one that he could get rid of as soon as possible. He couldn’t wait to get home so he could rest but he also wished for more time. Not that he thought he’d be able to redeem himself with it-- just to give George and Sapnap more time to leave him where he stood like they should.

They had started seeing towns more close together and more crop fields. It showed that they were only a few more hours from the castle and could easily get there that night.

Or they can book a room at a small tavern and delay the inevitable.

Two rooms, one for Dream and one for the other two. Dream knew they’d probably want it.

And Dream felt like Sapnap probably knew what he was doing instead of making them walk the rest of the night. It made him feel exposed for no reason and he wished Sapnap would look at him a little more and call him out on the rest of his bullshit so he’d have to face it and they can fight and maybe, just maybe, Dream wouldn’t feel like as much of a dick. Or maybe they’d be able to leave. If Dream had it his way they’d all cry together while he throws his own pity party and all would be forgiven.

Dream was a weak man, he knew, and he hated it. He just didn’t find it in himself to stop it.

  
  


Dream hated his father, he decided, he should have determined that long ago. He wished he could stop the man but it was basically the one thing he couldn’t.

Then on the night before they arrived in the kingdom, Dream told George to give his father a shoe before tying his wrists together and leaving him to sleep outside. Sapnap had left the tent to give George company and Dream left the camp to think on a field. He tried to forget the looks of betrayal on both their faces, he knew that they both tried hard to not let it show.

In the field the wind had followed, dancing with the trees. He can feel their curiosity. The stars twinkled and formed the constellations as Dream tries to recall their names, failing and feeling quite empty.

The moon stared at him. She felt overbearingly neutral and he wished for some response, but got nothing. She was still beautiful, reflecting the sun's light, stealing his glory.

Dream was a fool for the moon. He was quite charming.

  
  


The cold embrace of his horrifyingly giddy father was where he almost broke down but he had to at least pretend to enjoy. He tried to control the shaking of his hands along with his emotions but was unable to.

“You’ve done great, son.” And Dream felt like the praise was earned, he just didn’t want it.

He had spoken no words to Sapnap since the night before. He had only spoken to George to make sure he’d “stay in line”. Sapnap had begun to wear a scowl and George had been quiet, looking like he was deep in thought.

“You,” the king says, pointing at Sapnap, Dream hadn’t realised he was there. “You are the guard sent with my Great-Nephew?”

Why hadn’t Dream realised the king was in the room?

“Yes, your majesty.”

Why had the king recognised that they were family?

“Take the ice user to the cells.”

This is the most family that has recognised Dream, why did he still feel so lonely?

The king turned to him. It didn’t feel right.

“We will have a meeting in a few hours. Go get some rest and get ready for dinner.”

As he left he overheard a conversation between his father and the king.

“ _ What was the agreed price again?” _

“ _ A postcard to everyone in the kingdom that the church has royal favor. _ ”

The king had laughed.

“ _ Hardly anything-- Of course, nephew. _ ”

Was George really worth just a postcard? George really meant nothing to them and they were making Dream do this.

Tree’s hit against the castle and when he got to his room, a few vines had reached through the non-paned window. For once Dream accepted them for comfort.

  
  


The dinner table was piled with warm foods and rich drinks, a king’s dinner, one far better than any other he’s had before. Yet, Dream couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit.

Dream saw George enter the room with a few guards, non Sapnap, maybe that was for the better. He didn’t see him, Dream guessed he was behind him, he felt as if George’s eyes were on him at all times. He hoped George could see how much he despised this. Dream didn’t know if he could handle the guilt if George didn’t know that he would truly regret it.

It dragged on for hours. His family laughed around him, most of it caused by the cousins, Dream believed they were dubbed, at the end of the table where his second cousins sat with them.

Techno had entered the room, patting him on the back for a split second before joining the king at the front of the table. He was adorned with his blade, as usual. Dream catches the reflection of the moon through it as she shines through the window. Dream quickly looks away, as much as he wished not to. His magick-- it wanted to do things he couldn’t let happen but he wanted to.

Eye’s are on the back of his head, but when he goes to go check who’s, no one is looking at him, but the cousins are quiet and looking at their plates like they’ve been scolded. They seem like it’s hard for them to keep secrets.

"Dream."

He was alerted to conversation by his father.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Do you know the user's name?"

"No. I had not asked for any information."

_ Was Dream a liar? _

"Are you certain he is gifted with ice?"

"Yes, I saw it."

_ He was. It was all lies. _

"Thank you for your contribution to  _ revenge _ ."

"Thank you for giving me the opportunity to serve."

Formalities were sickening. It was all practiced lies.

Dream blinked and dinner was over and everyone was bidding farewells.

"You're climbing the social ladder." He was reminded. He never wanted to disappoint his father so bad.

George was gone.

_ Fuck. _

"You've done good, son."

_ It didn't feel like it. _

"Maybe it's time for you to start courting some fine women."

"I think I'm fine."

"We have the chance to grow the church."

"I said--"

"You starting a family or two would be a good way to gain followers."

"Excuse me?"

"Make it up to me."

Dream felt so lost.

"I thought I just did."

He felt alone.

"It takes more than just that to make up for the fact you're cursed."

Harsh whispers and deadly grips would likely be how Dream died.

"So make it up to me."

  
  


Dream had wandered the castle for hours before going out into the wind and rain. He went out to the dueling courts, they were a lot bigger than the one he learned on.

His sword felt heavier than usual but the handle didn't dare slip from his grip as the rain poured down in him. He sliced the rain with his sword, crying with the clouds and letting his feet lead him where they wanted to go.

He felt the moon through the clouds but she couldn't look through his blade. She provided him with no comfort, just the feeling of doom. He ignored it.

His swipes became more fierce and sharp. He led with his heart.

Thunder shook the ground and he swung.

"What the fuck, Dream."

_ Sapnap. _

Dream felt like he could be in a nightmare.

He dropped his sword, not daring to turn around and face Sapnap.

"Do you even care?"

"Sapnap,  _ please _ \--"

"I can't believe I still want to care."

"Sapnap-- I can't-- I care--"

"Shut up, dude." Dream could feel the heat coming from Sapnap. "If you did you would have stopped going with whatever you were told to do."

Dream turns around and moves toward Sapnap, Sapnap moves away from him with disgust and anger burning in his eyes. The wind blew viscously.

"Don't."

"Sapnap, I'd change things if I could."

"You can!" The heat died down, so did the fire in his eyes. "You have all this power-- you are a part of the royal family! You can use your voice to get George out and to safety."

"I can't."

"Dream. Use that magick of yours."

"What?"

"Use it."

"I don't--"

"Don't you dare fucking deny it when you're using in right in frint if me."

Dream had let the vines through. They played with his robes and danced with the wind.

Dream was ready to give up. It felt like a good time to throw a pity party.

Dream's knees buckled and the vines brushed the tears and rain from his face with their delicate leaves.

"I loved him y'know." Sapnap spoke with the power of a god. "I loved you too but I guess I'm just a fucking fool who fell for an idiot."

_ You are godless. _

"I love you too."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"I loved him."

Dream could hear Sapnap scoff.

The wind blows in his face for a few seconds, not letting him breathe.  _ Kill me. _ Oh how nice he thought his lungs would sound when they wheezed.

Then Sapnap left.

He was alone.

  
  


Castle walls were plain and cold and the empty echoes of his heavy shoes hurt his ears.

He passes someone in the hallway, not sure who, but they grab his wrist and pull him back towards a dark hallway where he was met with someone more familiar.

"Want to help in takin' down the government? It's pretty corrupt in here."

Techno had never said anything so appealing.

**Sapnap -**

Dream wasn’t going to do anything, so he will.

He felt awfully floaty as he walked, blissfully ignoring the typhoon in his chest and jittery hands.

It was only a few minutes to the dungeon from the courtyard and only one flash of his stolen castle guard badge to get inside.

No one cared.

He certainly did not.

_ Yes, you do. _

The wind was not him, it didn’t know anything.

_ They don’t feel the same anymore. _

Sapnap kept walking.

_ That’s what you’re telling yourself at least. _

Sapnap almost trips on the spiral staircase down. If anyone saw they would have alerted someone. Every castle guard knew he steps like the back of their hand, he did not.

He walked briskly.

Actual castle guards start hurrying past him towards the guards stationed behind the staircase he came down.

The wind sent their whispers towards him.

“ _ The user has escaped. _ ”

“ _ Impossible. _ ”

“ _ Someone helped him out. _ ”

“ _ ‘Twas a man in a mask who used the tunnels. A few of us went and followed. _ ”

“ _ Now I know you’re lying. No one knows about those except the head guard. _ ”

There was a silence.

“ _ You don’t think-- _ ”

“ _ I do. _ "

Another silence.

“ _ Someone get to the king. There's been an escapee and a possible betrayal. _ ”

Sapnap was late to the party, he guessed. Sounds like Techno was way ahead of him. Now he just needed to find them.

The wind whistles wildly around him. He didn’t understand why they wanted to be helpful.

He feels the sun for the first time in forever.

He feels heat from behind him.

There were no more whispers or footsteps. Maybe the sun did what’s best. Information like shouldn’t spread if it benefited Sapnap. The burning flesh may have been a little unbearable but that was easy to walk away from.

He eventually found himself back at the courtyard, in the wind and rain, crying on his knees with a skewed glimpse at hope and the end of everything bad. Maybe George was safer away from him. Maybe they were all safer separate. Maybe that doubt he felt as he walked into the villages built outside of the castle was just the last part of his heart that loved what might still be back there rolling in its grave.

The wind-- his wind-- rolls around his ankles, brushing away the rain drops.

_ He saved him. _

Sapnap decided to trust the wind. Not like he cared. As long as George was safe.

Though, the grave encasing his heart was only temporary. It would soon deteriorate and his feelings would still be there. Just different and stretched thin.

_ They feel the same. _

He knew they did. He was going to let himself be upset though. Not everything should be forgiven by one simple act.

The sun sizzled under the sea, Sapnap felt it.

He was going home. He missed his family.

**George -**

The grip on George's shoulder was tight and strong and once the euphoria of getting out of the cell had drifted off, it made it seem like he was just being captured again. The tunnel looked endless with no obvious escape if he needed to get away.

"Who are you?" George asks.

No response. Just the blank staring of a white mask that looked new and untouched, the hood of the man's cloak pulled over it.

"Get off of me." George tells him, shrugging his shoulder violently. The grip had loosened for a quick second before it tightened again in a panicked manner.

"Let go!" He tries again, trying to put more power behind his struggles. His savior-- capture?-- still has hold of him but walks faster.

George can hardly keep up. His height severely damaging his chances at keeping up.

George hears shouting from behind him. He turns back, seeing shimmering armor move towards them. The dying torches they ran past died out, turning the tunnel behind them pitch black.

The man pushes George out in front of them, pushing his head down towards him.

" _ Run. _ "

_ Dream. _

Blond hair peeks out from behind the mask, just a small amount.

" _ What-- _ "

" _ George. Get out of here and get safe. _ "

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing something, George. I'm sorry for everything."

The guards ran closer, darkness chasing after them.

Dream pushes up his mask and presses a kiss to George's cheek.

" _ Find Sap and tell him that please. Give him that for me. _ "

And Dream pushes him back away from the darkness, pulling out his sword. George feels the moon in it, she's beautiful.

George runs away before he could see anything but he hears the bodies drop.

  
  


At the end of the tunnel was the start to a sewer. It was disgustingly grimy and horrible. A thick layer of something covered the walkways save for the sparse footprints.

He felt gross, like he was running away.

He was but that's not the point.

The point was that he was leaving behind something he felt like needed answering and his plans as soon as he got out was to get as far away as he could, change his name, and start a farm.

He hadn't seen Sapnap in days, George had a feeling he was long gone. George wouldn't be able to give him what Dream asked him to.

Maybe if he whispered to the wind? Maybe they'll take the message for him, George felt like it was important.

It probably took George hours to navigate and escape the sewers, but once he did, he was far from the castle.

It seemed all too quiet for him being missing and the guards obviously knowing, something was off.

It didn't matter much to him anymore, it was quite literally behind him.

Maybe he could go search for his mom. It had been a while and although he could feel it in his heart that she was okay, he couldn't help but worry. It'd be a long journey, possibly even take longer than the one he had taken before his capture considering he had nothing.

He'd probably have to steal some money and get a few things.

Or he could get a quick job but that seemed basically worthless and like a timewaster.

But maybe spending some time in the few nearby villages would be good.

George spent half of his first day around the village looking for the local market before stealing some breads, being seen, and running as fast and far as he could.

He spent his second day trying to steal supplies from the sides of homes and random tool shops. This was harder but he was able to catch homes that were empty or shop owners who trusted customers enough to leave the shop to attend other things for a few moments. He had gotten enough things to supply another brewing set if he could find one.

On the third day, when chaos erupted around him in hushed whispers and panicked glancing,  _ the captured ice user has escaped, keep an eye out for… _ , George had gone to grab an axe.

It was just in case he needed to protect himself. He didn't trust what people knew of him or how well they would pick up that he was being searched for.

It had been on the side of a decently sized house and George hadn't seen the very large man lurking inside. When the large hand had gripped around his forearm and he was quickly shoved inside and then through a few doors out into a secluded yard where a small family was, he was terrified.

The man had said some words, very loud words that he felt like he had to listen to but couldn't, George's mind was in shambles. Focusing was something he couldn't find in himself to do and he was half sure his hand at the end of his gripped arm was going numb.

Wind chilled his fingers.

"George?"

George turned to see Sapnap, two guards with him who very suddenly gestured at the man to hand George over.

Before the man could though, a large burst of wind pushed the guards over, Sapnap stands still in what seemed to be shock.

"Dad. Can you let him go, please."

"Sapnap--"

"Dad, please."

The grip on George's arm is gone and George stumbles away from the man.

Sapnap turned George around to face him and quickly pull him into a hug before letting go. The guards groan on the floor, attempting to get up.

"Sap, honey what's going on?"

Sapnap pauses for a second, brushing George off and considering for a second before turning to the woman who spoke.

"I think we gotta go."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter-- um-- I'll see you soon. Love you."

And Sapnap quickly pulled George through another set of doors that led to a forest, picking up an axe on the way out.

"George-- how?”

George laughs, halfway panicked and feeling very stiff and tired. “What do you mean?”

“How’d you get out?”

George smiles just a little, walking a little faster to catch up to Sapnap before being able to realize he probably shouldn’t have. He trips and falls, sobbing just a small bit.

Sapnap kneels down beside him, putting his hands out in front of George so he could see them, not wanting to make contact without permission. George reaches out for Sapnap’s hands shakily, wanting something to ground him because he was so frustrated and upset and he couldn’t think clearly. Too many things have happened and he hasn’t processed most of it.

“What’s wrong, Georgie?” Sapnap asks him. George cries a bit harder with the name, reminding him of all the times they’d sit alone and Sapnap would try and pressure the both of them that he would be okay and everything will turn out fine.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to get away from the village and hide for a bit? So you’re safer?”

George nods and tries his best to get up, needing Sapnap to help most of the way.

Sapnap leads him to a river that they follow South. 

“Did Dream really get you out?”

“Yeah.”

“So the wind didn’t just say that to make me feel better?”

“The wind told you?”

“They tell me lots of things. I was just going to leave after I heard you escaped. Thought you’d be safer without me around.”

“Dumbass.”

“George…”

“Dream asked me to tell you he’s sorry.”

Sapnap raises his eyebrows for a second in mock surprise, “Really?”

“Also told me to give you this.”

George stops and pulls Sapnap towards him before placing a small kiss on his cheek. Sapnap scoffs with a small smile.

“He’s stupid.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Sapnap looks towards the direction of the castle in wonder.

“We’ll be back right?”

George thinks for a moment. Was he going to go back? He was planning on leaving it all behind before so was he going to go back on that?

“Yeah, just give it a few months.”

“Maybe less.”

“Maybe less.”

Sapnap smiles and grabs George’s hand, “Let’s go?”

George squeezes his hand back, “Yeah.”

**Dream -**

Dream had been captured fairly quickly. He wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t upset. He had done what he needed to do.

He had saved George with hardly any hiccups, using tunnels Techno had shown him to their best extent. He wished the moon found him solace.

He caused a distraction in the study that had been on the same side of the castle as the royal bedroom, overgrowing the vines outside the castle and leading them to tightly wrap around table legs and lighting chairs on fire, mask heavy on his head, a simple drawing of a jester burning in the flames.. It felt  _ perfect _ . Guards had smelt the smoke and found it, that half of the castle became busy attempting to fix the issue.

Give Techno enough time to capture the king. From the way the cousins, Tommy and Tubbo, nodded at him as they rushed behind a painting it seemed like he had done enough. He had caught a glance of Techno and Wilbur, the king’s grandson, making their way up through a set of doors he had never seen the other side of before.

For hours he had lurked in the shadows, purple and green robes adorning him and flowing in the air drafts. The kingdom was quiet.

Some guards found him when he was cornered in a long hallway. They sent him to the dungeon’s where they said he would rot. He was fairly confident he wouldn’t, Techno wouldn’t do that to him, but even if he did he would be okay with that.

He was in there for half a week before Techno let him out. Half a week of questioning and plates of oats for dinner.

“You could have left.”

“I want to wait for my father.”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t it be fun if I beat him in his colors?”

Techno had laughed at that.

“We can make the king send a request for his presence.”

“Really?”

“I mean, your father might be in a panic looking for an escaped ice user but no one can resist a royal request.”

Dream had paused at that.

“They’re looking for him?”

Techno shrugs, “Somethin’ had to distract from the fact the king hasn’t made a public appearance for a few days now, y'know how the kingdom loves their king despite the taxin’ an’ suppression.”

“You couldn’t have at least made something different up?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind. It won’t matter anyway, nothin’ will be happenin’ to anyone unless it’s somethin’ serious.” The end of techno’s sentence had been interrupted by some chuckling, in a pure Techno manner.

“That’s fine, I guess.”

Techno claps Dream on the back, “Listen, once we get Wilbur in the throne, your friend will be safe and all the other ice users too. No need worry about impendin' doom or whatever.”

“Thanks Techno.”

“Eh-- Don’t thank me, this is all Wilbur’s plan. I just wanted to help him, like a brother to me.”

Dream laughs a little, he glances out a window, the kingdom is quiet.

  
  


It takes a week for the request for his father’s appearance to be sent and three more days for him to appear. Late one night with heavy footsteps in the large throne room.

“Son, where have you been?”

“Here.”

“Where’s the king? He sent for me.”

Dream shakes his head.

“ _ I _ sent for you.”

“Wha--”

“Duel me, dad.”

“What are you saying?”

“I-- I want to duel. I want to challenge you.”

“You won’t win.”

Dream scoffs, “I think you’re wrong.”

“This is blasphemy.”

Dream was getting inpatient, he stands from where he had been sitting, a padded chair gently charred by a flame.

“C’mon, dad. Take this chance to put me in my place.”

“I’ll get you put in a cell for this.”

“By who?”

“The king.”

“ _ Fight me _ .”

“ _ Fine. You foul boy. _ ”

Dream’s father takes out his blade, Dream does the same. Both wear green and purple.

Dream sees the moon in his blade. He is quite stunning.

“You can’t use the king to get what you want anymore.”

“Who told you that.”

“You can’t overthrow the kingdom just so your religion can flourish. You can’t take over the kingdom.”

“Is this because you’re cursed? You were meant to be so great. Now you’re just meant to be under me.”

“You tell lies to people to try and get the better of them, you just want to rule because you love power and nothing else.”

Dream had his mask in his pocket, he takes it out slowly. His father startles and gets ready to swing before seeing what it is.

“Are you going to hide behind it?”

“I'm going to speak with it.”

Dream slides it on, it feels right.

The fight is short, Dream expected more from a man who torments others for pleasure. If anyone asked, his father was thrown into the woods to rot. It was the truth but not all of it.

  
  


It takes two months for Wilbur’s plan to take effect.

The king and his children had been in a secret holding room designed by Tubbo, he may have been young but he was incredibly smart. They had been questioned and regarded as rats, Techno had told him, just to get to the point where they would hand over power to Wilbur so he could change the cruel world around them.

Dream had memorised the castle, bonded with Tommy and Tubbo when Techno and Wilbur had to make executive decisions. He learned about the family they had decided to form with each other. It was something he hoped to find some day.

For now he believed that it was nice living without ties to his past traumas.

The moon whispered stories to him to make up for the times growing up where he had missed out. The sun eased his worries about the friends he had betrayed and missed dearly. The earth gave him comfort on rough nights and mornings that looked an awful lot like the ones he had in the past.

In another world, where he had one, Dream hoped his mother had been all of these things. Maybe even his father if he wasn’t who he was in this world.

He still wore purple and green most days, but it was no longer for his father, it was for himself.

King Wilbur had taken over, Techno had said that he was really proud of him, his little brother was doing well for himself. King Wilbur had also made it quite known that  _ revenge _ was a dead game that will never be practiced again, that everyone was safe and that a strong minded king who can make decisions himself was in power. He was going to make a world for the people.

_ Every user, no matter the element, is free, the non-magick are included in this. For they hold spirit, something no other user can have as strong. _

“You can have a place in the court, I have heard about the magick you have and how powerful it is.” Wilbur had told him.

He had declined, he’d rather find someplace far away to live, with friends.

  
  


It took two months for the word of the new world to reach George and Sapnap and for them to come back to the kingdom.

It had felt like a memory, dry and yellow, but it didn’t matter.

They had been happy, Dream can tell, they had shared so much and provided each other with everything Dream couldn’t. They hung onto each other like there was no other. 

It hurt for a moment.

Then they did the same to him and nothing hurt anymore. They had given him small kisses, not meant to be taken anyway but pure emotion that needs to be resolved and answered. THey had given him large hugs that Dream wished he could melt into and die. IT was all so much more than he could ever ask for.

“We missed you.”

“I missed you guys too.”

“I’m sorry.” Sapnap had told him.

“Don’t apologize.”

They laughed together and cried together and they built together. They disappeared into the woods and found a home that George and Sapnap had built and they lived together.

They loved together but they also had some things to work through before they said it.

Dream had been given royal blood, a broken promise, but he made something out of it.

The worlds lived in solace. They could all feel it in their bones.

Dream saw the moon in his blade, accompanied by the sun. The wind blew past him in a playful manner meant for him. They sat by the sea, salt in the air, and the sea waved a goodbye when they turned to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and help me want to keep writing :)


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